Dear Mom, Can you see my chest glowing again? It's because of the children in a place they call Sweden down here. They're standing up for my movie against the censors who won't let them go to it.
The censors are only doing their job, of course. (Remember how our own board banned ''Star Wars'' to anyone over 12?) They don't like my dying scene, and frankly neither would I if I believed in it. In fact - as you know! - there are several bits of dialogue and stuff I tried to stop under the taste clause in my contract.
But I wonder if the long winter nights have turned those Swedes into a bunch of gloomy Bergmans (Ingmar, Mom, not Ingrid!). Otherwise why would they be so defensive about the ''threatening'' atmosphere when grownups appear on screen? The whole point is that you have to be a kid, at least at heart, or you might miss me completely. Have they forgotten Tinker Bell and the veddy grownup Captain Hook, for goodness' sake!
The nice thing about my folks - there goes that glow again! - is that you've never needed censors to tell you what was good for me or how to help me understand what wasn't.
By the way - the truth comes out - could you spare a few bucks until I get my next check?
Meanwhile, Mom, the scenery is here, wish you were beautiful!